


Breathing Room

by Lise



Series: Remember This Cold [69]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Conversations, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Feels, Friendship, M/M, Minor pining, POV Loki (Marvel), POV Steve Rogers, POV Thor (Marvel), POV Valkyrie, character and relationship building essentially, feelsy but not angsty if that makes sense, this is basically a lot of people just kind of talking with each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-17 05:55:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16089443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: After Asgard is destroyed, and after the wedding, people start settling in. New bonds form, and old ones strengthen. Everyone takes a deep breath.The storm is coming, but it's not here yet.





	1. Steve Rogers

**Author's Note:**

> Miss me? 
> 
> I've been working on this fic for a while. After the Ragnarok fic, and the wedding fic, and also just in general, there were a lot of things I wanted to do, a lot of relationships I wanted to explore, and a lot of directions I wanted to go in - and I couldn't figure out how to make them fit together in a way that made sense. This was what I ended up with. It's definitely...not particularly plotty - this is all character work from beginning to end. Four chapters, four different POVs, and a whole lot of talking.
> 
> Feelings and Talking. It's my natural state. 
> 
> This is finished, so I’ll be updating regularly - ideally every other day for the next eight days. That’s the goal, anyway.
> 
> Thank you, as always, to my dedicated [beta](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com), and this time to [Lena](http://portraitoftheoddity.tumblr.com) for giving me much needed characterization advice (while tipsy, no less!). And thank you to all of you who are here - we're, what, over 70 installments deep in this now? And you're still reading. Love you all. 
> 
> Without further ado.

The morning after his wedding, Steve woke up convinced it had all been a dream. 

Then he registered fully the feeling of Loki wrapped around him like an octopus and dropped safely back into reality, complete with what he knew had to be a terrifically dopey grin. Married. They were _married._

The party had gone late. Steve wondered how many of his friends were going to be hungover today. 

It was still early - he could tell by the light peeking through the blinds - but he was awake, his stomach growling. If he wanted to go for a run before eating - and he did want to go for a run before eating - he’d better do that now. 

Steve began the careful process of disentangling himself from Loki’s limbs, who made a grumbling sound and tightened his hold. 

Steve tapped his wrist lightly. “I’m going for a run.” 

“No,” Loki mumbled. 

Steve raised his eyebrows. “You could come with me.” 

“Mmm. Or you could stay here.” Loki turned, nuzzling into Steve’s neck. “There are other ways to get your heart racing.” 

Steve huffed, though his skin tingled a little, body perking up. “You’re still half asleep.” 

“I can wake up for sex.” 

Steve gave Loki’s arm a squeeze. “You’re not making this easy.” 

“Good,” Loki said, but after a moment he sighed dramatically and withdrew his arms and legs. “Fine, fine. Go for your run. Then you’ll come back and get in the shower and I’ll join you. Press up against your back and slide my hands down over your stomach and-”

“ _Loki,_ ” Steve said, his face - and other parts - warming up. Loki just laughed, and Steve shook his head as he rolled over and stood up, pulling on sweatpants and a t-shirt. “I’m going to hold you to that, just so you know,” he said, very carefully not facing Loki.

“I hope you do,” Loki said, already curling back up under the blankets. For a moment, Steve was inclined to just get back into bed and join him, but he made himself turn around and go out. 

He took a long run, clearing out his head and focusing on the workout itself - though it was hard not to keep letting memories from the night before drift into his head. He was glad there was no one around to see him grinning like an idiot. 

As he came to the end of his circuit, he saw Natasha standing outside, her arms crossed, staring at the towering panther statue. He changed direction slightly to head for her, and she turned as he approached. 

“Keeping up your morning routine, I see,” she said.

“Trying to.” He hadn’t had much of a chance to talk to her during the party. Looking at her now, he wondered if that was by design. She seemed...not quite uncertain, but uncomfortable. “How’re you doing?” He asked.

She shrugged one shoulder. “Not hungover, which puts me one better than Clint. Or, I’d bet, almost everyone else here barring maybe you, Loki, and Thor.” 

“And Bucky,” Steve said. Natasha shook her head, one corner of her mouth curling slightly up. 

“No,” she said. “I don’t think so.” Steve blinked, and she shook her head. “Never mind. It’s…” She blew out a breath. “I didn’t mean the timing to work out like it did. Sorry for crashing your wedding. And congratulations, by the way.” Her smile was small but, Steve thought, sincere.

“Thanks,” he said. “And it wasn’t crashing. You would’ve been invited if we’d known where to send the letter.” It wasn’t quite a question, and he didn’t really expect her to answer, but she surprised him. 

“Russia, actually,” she said. “I’ve been dealing with some personal business. An old friend-” She stopped. “Someone I thought was dead popped up on my radar.”

“What happened?” Steve asked. Natasha looked at him sideways. 

“I don’t know yet,” she said, after a long pause. “I guess I’ll find out if I made a mistake if bodies start dropping.” Steve blinked, and she sighed. “Sorry. It’s...no offense, Steve, but I don’t think this is something I want to talk about with you.” 

Steve tried not to be stung by that and made himself nod. “All right.” He paused. “What do you know about...what you missed?” 

“Clint’s caught me up on a fair amount. Sounds like you’ve been busy.” 

“That’s one way of putting it.” Steve ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. “You know about Thor?” 

“That his sister tried to take over Asgard and it was destroyed in the fight? Thor sure has bad luck in siblings.” Steve gave her a quick, hard, look. “I know, I know,” she said. “Bad joke.” 

She _was_ nervous, Steve thought. 

“I really am glad you came,” he said. “I meant it, when I said you’d be welcome here. And it’s...good to see you. Safe.” He smiled weakly. “I was worried about you.”

“You? Worried about me? Last time I saw you, Steve, you’d nearly bled to death.” She uncrossed her arms. “It’s fine. I’m fine. It’s a little weird, but nothing I won’t get used to.” She raised her eyebrows. “Honestly, the marriage _did_ catch me a little by surprise. How long have you been planning that one?”

“It was actually already...in the works when we saw you,” Steve said. “Njord just took the rings.”

“Huh,” Natasha said. “You didn’t say anything.” 

Steve smiled a little crookedly. “It didn’t seem like the time.” 

“No,” she said after a moment. “I guess it wouldn’t.” She gave him a small, tired smile. “It’s good to see you too, Steve. I missed you guys, turns out.”

“Have you talked to T’Challa?” Steve asked. “If not, I can-” 

“I’d rather do that myself,” Natasha said. “Though I’m pretty sure he knows I’m here, and hasn’t had the Dora Milaje kick me out yet, so...I’m guessing I’m allowed to stay.” 

Steve exhaled in very slight relief. He hadn’t actually expected anything else, but the confirmation was still reassuring. He gave Natasha a smile. “I’m glad to hear that. T’Challa’s...he’s a good man.” 

“Seems to be,” Natasha said. Steve glanced at her with a slight frown, but she gave him a small...not a smile, exactly. “I always assume there’s a catch, Steve. It’s what’s kept me alive. Doesn’t mean I think you’re wrong. Just that I’m paranoid.” 

Steve bit the inside of his cheek and after a moment said, “want to come in with me? I need to change, and shower, but...I could make you breakfast.” 

Natasha raised her eyebrows. “Loki’s not going to have a problem with that?” 

Steve almost asked _why would he?_ but he supposed that...Loki held grudges, and Natasha _had_ been working with Tony and Ross, and they’d never been on particularly good terms. But… “You’re my friend,” he said. “If he does, he can deal with it.” 

“Hm.” Natasha cocked her head to the side, then nodded with another one of her little half-smiles. “Yeah, all right. I’ll let you make me breakfast.” 

* * *

Loki was still asleep when Steve checked in the bedroom, though he roused as Steve dressed after his wash, sitting up with a yawn. “Norns,” he said. “You didn’t wake me up for the shower.” 

“Natasha’s here,” Steve said, and watched Loki tense, his sleep blurred eyes sharpening. 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I invited her to breakfast.” Loki’s expression didn’t warm, and Steve sighed. “You seemed fine when she showed up to the wedding.” 

“Yes,” Loki said. “I was. That’s a little different than having her for breakfast the morning after.” His voice was caustic, and Steve tensed, but a moment later Loki sighed and dropped back against the pillows. “Ah, well. She’s already here, and I’ve missed my chance to fuck you in the shower, so…” 

Steve’s face went hot and he cleared his throat. “You’re welcome to join us for breakfast, if you want.” 

“I’ll probably take you up on that.” Loki stretched. “I don’t think I’ve slept that well in...quite possibly years.” He gave Steve a sly, warm, smile. “Nicely done.” 

Steve was quite certain he was blushing bright red. “Glad to hear it,” he said. “I’ll see you out there.” After a moment, he walked over to the side of the bed and bent down to kiss Loki softly. To kiss his _husband._

(And if that wasn’t more than a bit of a thrill to think…)

“Love you,” he said, trying to make it sound casual and not like his chest felt overfull, before going back out to meet Natasha. She was standing in the center of the room, looking around. 

“Nice place,” she said. 

“T’Challa’s been incredibly generous,” Steve said, walking over to the kitchen and pulling out a skillet. “Omelettes okay?” 

“Sounds great.” Natasha walked over and sat down at the counter. “Clint said there was some shit with Amora.” 

Steve’s hand clenched involuntarily on the handle of the skillet and he forced it to relax. “You could say that,” he said. “She kidnapped Loki planning to trade him over to Thanos for her safety.” 

“Not the bit I meant,” Natasha said, though almost gently. Steve felt his jaw twitch, unreasonably annoyed with Clint, even if it wasn’t exactly a secret. He still didn’t like thinking about it. About how it had felt having everything about him twisted up and around, being made to _want_ someone so desperately he couldn’t think of anything else. He wouldn’t call it _love._

“Yeah,” he said finally. “It’s over now. She’s dead. Wanda killed her.” 

“Pretty thoroughly, I heard.” Natasha tapped her fingers on the counter. “About Thanos. Has there been any change? Any new information?” 

“Not as yet,” Loki’s voice said. He came prowling out, wearing what Steve thought of as _Asgardian casual._ “Steve declined to entertain my idea for intelligence gathering.” 

“Because it was a terrible idea,” Steve almost snapped, giving Loki a hard look, a little stab of panic going through him. “It’s not an option,” he added to Natasha, in case she was going to ask. 

“Can I ask what the idea was?” She asked, looking at Loki. The two of them practically sizing each other up. After a moment, Loki shrugged, and some of the tension seemed to ease, without either of them saying a word. 

“It’s not important, since Steve’s right - it isn’t my best idea.” 

“That’s saying something,” Natasha said dryly. Loki blinked, and then barked a laugh. 

“Very droll, Romanov.” 

“I’ve been known to be.” She glanced at Steve. “Can I help with anything?”

“No,” Loki said smoothly. “Sit down; you’re the guest. Omelettes, Steve?” 

“That’s...what I was thinking..” Steve eyed Loki sidelong, trying to get a read on his mood. Loki glanced back at him, and for just a moment his lips tugged up toward a smile that brightened his eyes. Steve relaxed. 

“Thanks. Both of you,” Natasha said, sitting down and resting her elbows on the table. 

“Consider it long overdue repayment for saving our lives,” Loki said, pulling a pepper over and starting to cut it up. “At least on my part. I imagine Steve is just being friendly.” 

Steve shook his head, fighting down a smile. “Because you’re never that,” he said. Loki hummed noncommittally.

“So,” Natasha said. “When are you going on your honeymoon?” 

Steve glanced at Loki. “We...hadn’t actually planned one.” Her eyebrows went up, and Steve half smiled and said dryly. “I think we both figured that the second we tried to go on vacation would be when something would go horribly wrong, so we’d better not chance it.”

“Yeah,” Natasha said, “that’s a really good way to never do nice things, in our line of work. We can always call you back in, you know.” 

“She makes a fair point,” Loki murmured. He’d finished the peppers and started on an onion. 

“Where would _you_ want to go?” 

“I don’t know,” Loki said. “The trouble is the problem of being a fugitive on this planet and unwelcome on another four of the Nine Realms. Another of which is depopulated. It rather cuts down on options.”

Steve frowned at him. Natasha snorted, though. “I have faith you could work around it, if you wanted.” Loki hummed again, and Steve noted that down as something to discuss later. 

Loki made good conversation over breakfast. Nothing serious, or deep, but Steve could tell the difference between his aggressively polite facade and when he was actually putting in the effort, and this was the latter. After they were done, he begged off to go shower - giving Steve just a flicker of an eyebrows and a smirk before leaving. 

Steve looked at Natasha.

“What,” she said. “Are you waiting for a verdict?” 

Steve had to laugh, a little embarrassed. “I guess. Maybe. I know things haven’t always been...you’ve never really trusted him.” 

“You’re right,” she said. “I don’t trust most people, Steve. Clint. You. Maybe Sam. Most everyone else...so, yeah. I don’t trust Loki. But he’s not who he was when he first showed up here. Or even when you first brought him in.” She raised her eyebrows with a crooked little smile. “I guess we’ve all changed, haven’t we?”

“Guess we have,” Steve said, a little ruefully. “We’re a long way from where we started.” From 1943, when things had almost seemed simple. 

“It’s good to see you happy, Steve,” Natasha said. She sounded almost wistful. “If anyone deserves it, you do.”

* * *

“I hear congratulations are in order,” T’Challa said when Steve met him upon his return from Birnin Zana. Steve couldn’t keep back a smile that he hoped looked less goofy than it felt. 

“Guess so.” He paused. “Is everything...all right? I heard there’d been some trouble.” 

“You could say that.” T’Challa looked briefly very tired. “It’s been...a chaotic month.” 

“You’re opening your borders,” Steve said. He’d gathered that much. T’Challa inclined his head. 

“It’s time we did. I’ve…” He paused, seeming to be considering. “It doesn’t change anything about the status of you and your teammates. You are still under my - our - protection.” He paused. “Including Natasha. I heard she was back?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, tensing a little. “She’s back.” 

T’Challa just nodded, though. “I’ll make sure to speak to her,” he said. “So long as she keeps her Widow’s Bites to herself...I don’t think the Dora would take very kindly to her pulling _that_ trick again.” His slight smile, however, suggested he wasn’t entirely serious. Well. Steve didn’t doubt he was serious about the Dora Milaje reacting harshly, but he didn’t think T’Challa thought it would be a problem. He relaxed again. 

“Can I ask what happened?” He said. T’Challa gave him a sidelong look, but only for a moment. 

“My cousin returned,” he said. “N’Jadaka. He was raised an American after my father killed his father for smuggling vibranium out of Wakanda.” 

Steve blinked. “Oh,” he said, not quite sure what else to say. 

T’Challa sighed. “He came back for revenge. And to begin a revolution - or what he believed would be a revolution. Though I think the former took primacy. He tried to kill me.” 

Steve thought of Loki and Thor, but of course that was different. “I’m glad he didn’t,” he said, which was probably obvious but he thought deserved to be said anyway. 

“Me, too,” T’Challa said, with just a flicker of a smile, though his eyebrows stayed knitted together. Steve hesitated. 

“What happened to him?” He asked tentatively. “N’Jadaka?” 

T’Challa looked at him for several long seconds, plainly trying to decide what he should - or could - say. “As far as the world is concerned, he died,” T’Challa said. 

“But he didn’t,” Steve said. T’Challa hesitated a moment longer, then shook his head. 

“I do not want to build my reign on another family member’s body,” he said, very quietly. “Though I don’t expect him to thank me for it.” He shook himself, seeming to refocus on Steve. “I trust you understand that this is something to keep in confidence.” 

“I understand.” Steve thought of Loki, how long he’d been a secret from everyone but six people. “Thank you for telling me.” 

“Apparently he and Sam have met,” T’Challa said. “Though he knew him as Erik Stevens, then. I am asking Sam if he’d be willing to speak with him.”

Steve nodded. “So Sam knows. Anyone else?” 

“Not at the moment, no. That may change.” He paused. “I’ve thought to speak to Thor. And I expect...I don’t intend to keep him secreted away forever.” 

“Anything changes,” Steve said, “or if there’s anything I can do…”

“Thank you,” T’Challa said, “but no. This is, I think - at least for now - a matter for my family.” 

“Well,” Steve said, “thanks for filling me in. And I’m...sorry. Sounds like it’s been rough.” 

“I was thrown off a waterfall,” T’Challa said. “So I suppose one could say that.” Steve started, staring at him, and T’Challa gave him another one of those small but warm smiles. 

“Doesn’t show,” Steve said. T’Challa huffed a laugh. 

“I am sorry to have missed the wedding,” he said. “I am sure it was a lovely affair.” 

“It was...nice,” Steve said, looking down, a little self-conscious. To cut it, he added, “Thor cried a lot.” 

“An older sibling’s prerogative, I should think.” 

“You’d know, I guess,” Steve said. 

“Not that Shuri is getting married for another twenty years,” T’Challa said serenely. “Or maybe thirty.” Steve raised his eyebrows. 

“You don’t think that’s a little much?” 

“Oh, it’s not me,” T’Challa said. “This is according to Shuri. She says that a boyfriend will just get in the way in her lab, and she’d rather wait until she’s established enough to have her own team.” Steve couldn’t help smiling. T’Challa stretched like a big cat. “At any rate. I’ll have to think of an appropriate gift.” 

Steve felt his face warm. “You’ve already given us more than enough. A place to stay, the rings, my shield…” 

He trailed off when T’Challa pinned him with his eyes. “I don’t suppose you have a registry,” he said. Steve stared at him, honestly not sure if he was joking. 

“No,” he said. “We...don’t.” 

“Ah well,” T’Challa said. “I’ll just have to improvise.”

“Sometimes,” Steve said after a moment, “I can’t tell when you’re messing with me and when you’re serious.” 

“I don’t know why you’d say that,” T’Challa said, but there was that little smile again.

* * *

“So how’s married life treating you?” Sam asked, grinning. 

“A lot like unmarried life,” Steve said. “Haven’t sprouted any new limbs yet.”

“Good wedding night?” Bucky said, emerging from Sam’s bathroom with a little bit of a leer. “Did you break any furniture?” 

Steve felt his face getting hot. “Don’t see as that’s any of your business,” he said. “Do you just live here now? I thought Sam and I were having a private conversation.” 

Sam coughed. “Yeah, Bucky,” he said. “We were having a _private_ conversation.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky said. “I get it. Private conversation away. I’m heading out.” He gave a jaunty little wave and sauntered out. Steve looked after him, frowning slightly. 

“God, what an asshole,” Sam said, obscurely. Steve gave him a sharp, confused, look, a little offended on Bucky’s behalf.

“What’d he do?”

“Just...generally.” The corner of Sam’s lips twitched a little, though. Steve narrowed his eyes, but Sam shook himself. “Something up?” 

“Not really,” Steve said. “Just dropping by. Things’ve been...hectic.” 

“Aren’t they always?”

Steve had to laugh, a little ruefully. “Guess so.” He paused. “Thanks, by the way. For officiating. And planning everything. It was...I really appreciated it.” 

“Hey,” Sam said. “It was fun. Honestly. You two make the weirdest, sweetest, couple, I swear to God.” 

Steve felt his face warm a little and ducked his head. “Thanks, I think.” 

“You’re welcome.” He stretched, and Steve heard his shoulder pop. Sam grimaced and muttered something under his breath that Steve thought might’ve had Bucky’s name in it. Steve raised his eyebrows, a lurking suspicion creeping in. 

“So, uh,” he said. “What were you and Bucky up to?” 

Sam gave him a sideways look. “What do you mean, ‘up to’?” 

“I don’t know,” Steve said. “You tell me.”

Sam just stared at him for a long moment, and then put his head back and stared up at the ceiling. “Jesus fuck,” he said. “Dammit.” Steve just waited, eyebrows still raised, and Sam dropped his chin back down, a woeful look on his face. “I’m telling you,” he said. “I have no idea how this happened to me.”

“How what happened,” Steve said ruthlessly. Sam’s expression turned pained. 

“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you. Yeah, okay, maybe there’s a little bit of a thing. Sort of.”

Steve could feel his lips twitching. “Uh huh.” 

“Don’t be like that, Rogers,” Sam said, jabbing a finger in his direction. “I _see_ you. You know what? He’s lucky to have me. I’m a _catch._ ” 

“Absolutely,” Steve said, straight-faced. Sam shot him an almost suspicious look. 

“You’re an asshole, too,” he said. “Both of you. Must be a supersoldier thing.” 

Steve gave up and just laughed, though it and his smile faded quickly. “You...didn’t tell me.” 

Sam sighed. “Like you said,” he said carefully, “it’s been hectic.” 

Steve felt a pang. “But that’s not all.” 

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Because I don’t know what the fuck this is. I don’t think he does either. Going all out seemed like jumping the gun a little. And to be honest…” Sam blew out a breath. “I’m not out to my ma. Or my dad. Or anyone other than my little sister who moved to San Francisco.”

“Oh,” Steve said. Sam shrugged. 

“Not like I think anyone _here’d_ give a damn. Obviously. But...old habits. You know.” 

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I know.” 

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Ever bother you? You grew up pretty far pre-Stonewall.” 

Steve made a note to look that up. “Honestly? Not really,” he said. “Probably should’ve - well. Not _should’ve,_ but...it’s Loki. It seemed...different, somehow. And there were a lot of other things that seemed like...bigger concerns.”

“Yeah,” Sam said after a pause. “I guess the ‘alien who tried to take over the world’ might be a more significant issue. Though then again, when I met Bucky the first thing he did was rip the steering wheel out of my car, so…” He made a face. “My life got _weird_ when I met you, Steve.” 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, meaning it. Sam gave him a sharp look. 

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I volunteered, remember? And it’s not all bad. Most of it’s pretty damn good. I’m not complaining.” 

“I got lucky meeting you, Sam,” Steve said. “Guys like you don’t grow on trees.” 

“You’re damn right they don’t,” Sam said, but Steve thought he looked pleased.

* * *

In the flurry of activity that had followed their return - Loki’s journey to Jotunheim, the preparation for the wedding, generally settling back into something like routine after the upheaval - Steve hadn’t managed to get much time to check in with their newest teammate. 

It took a little doing to find her, but he did eventually track her down sitting on the roof sipping from a flask. 

“Valkyrie?” Steve called, not wanting to sneak up on her. She raised a hand in a wave without turning around. After a moment he walked over and sat down next to her. “Mind if I…?”

“If I minded, I’d’ve pushed you off the building,” she said. Steve wasn’t entirely sure if she was joking. “Congratulations. So are you Prince Steve Rogers, now?” 

Steve made a face. “No,” he said. “Loki’s not...technically a prince anymore.” 

“Congratulations to him, then,” Val said. “Asgard’s royal family is a nightmare. Thor’s all right, though.” 

“How’ve you been?” Steve asked. “I know I’ve been a little...absent, and I’m sorry.” 

She turned her head, eyebrows raised. “I don’t need a babysitter.” 

“I didn’t think you did,” Steve said. “But you’re on a completely new planet with a whole bunch of strangers. I know how much it helps having someone to help you settle in.” 

Her eyebrows dropped back down and she looked away, taking another generous swallow from her flask. Steve eyed it, wondering again if he should say something. “Thor’s been good,” she said, after a moment. “About that. And the pretty witch. Wanda. She keeps trying to introduce me to her Dora Milaje friends, but I don’t think they like me very much.” She shrugged. “I’m not alone.” 

Steve studied her profile and leaned back on his hands. “I’m glad,” he said. “I know I’m happy to have you here.” 

She gave him another quick, sharp, stare. “You barely even know me.” 

“Maybe not,” Steve said. “But I like what I’ve seen so far.” 

Val made a sound somewhere between a “huh” and a “ha.” “You know I was a slaver on Sakaar,” she said bluntly. “I grabbed people who fell and sold them to the Grandmaster. Used the money for booze.” 

Steve supposed he had known that. It still struck him to hear her say it. He took a breath through his nose and let it out. “You won’t find many people here who haven’t done awful things,” he said after a moment. “One of my best friends used to kill people for a living. Loki brought an army to this planet. In the end...I’d rather judge you on what you do now than what you did then.” 

“That easy,” Val said, though it sounded like she didn’t mean for him to hear it. Steve smiled crookedly.

“I didn’t say it was easy.” 

“I guess you didn’t.” She took a sip from her flask, and Steve gave up. He nodded at it. 

“Should I be worried about that?” 

She stiffened. “No.”

“You’re going to run out of stuff that’s strong enough to work,” Steve said. “And that gets ugly.” He’d seen too many people’s lives wrecked by alcohol, when they didn’t have anything else. “Might be better to start weaning yourself off before then.” 

Val gave him a hard, cold, look. “I like you,” she said. “Probably. But don’t tell me how to deal with my shit. All right?”

Steve sighed. He couldn’t be particularly surprised, but he was still disappointed. 

“I can handle it,” Val said more loudly. 

“Right up until you can’t,” Steve said quietly. “I’ll leave it alone. But if you change your mind…”

“I’ll be sure to come around so you can tell me that you told me so,” she said harshly. Steve shook his head. 

“That’s not my style.”

She looked tense, guarded. Steve was reminded abruptly of nothing so much as Loki in those early days, on edge, unsure, prickly to mask his uncertainty and unease. He leaned back on his hands and turned his head so he wasn’t looking at her. “I just want to know if there’s something I can do to help. If there isn’t...there isn’t. But you’re here, and that means you’re one of us now.”

She snorted. “One of _you,_ huh? Who’s that?” 

_A team. A family. Both._ “I think we’re all still figuring that out,” he said. “You’re not the only one who’s a little lost.” 

“Yeah,” Val said after a pause. “You do seem to be a fucked up bunch.” 

Steve had to laugh. “I guess we are,” he said. “But we...do all right. Mostly.” 

She raised her flask in his direction, but he noticed that she capped it instead of taking another drink. “Mostly’s better than nothing.” 


	2. Valkyrie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have chapter two! This was my first time writing Val's POV - I hope I did okay. I do know that it was a lot of fun. 
> 
> Thanks as always to your positive and passionate response to the first chapter - I hope you enjoy the next three! Thor's chapter will be along in two days, and Loki's in four.

She didn’t _lie_ to Steve Rogers. Not exactly. It was...fine. She was fine. More or less. 

Midgard was better than Sakaar. Sakaar had been - not _good,_ exactly, but perfect for her, for a while. But it’d been wearing thin, and she couldn’t say she missed the smell. Trash or cloying perfume or sometimes both. 

Somehow you never really stopped noticing it. 

But she’d been in a holding pattern for centuries, and change was...uncomfortable. She didn’t regret it. But she couldn’t have stayed on the ship with a flock of Aesir who looked at her like she was some kind of legendary hero. She wasn’t a hero. She’d been a weapon in the Allfather’s arsenal, then a drunk and a slaver. 

At least the people here had no reason to expect anything from her. 

Someone was knocking on her door and Val (that was the name she was using, at least for now) glanced at the position of the sun and groaned. Near noon. Respectable time to get up on Sakaar; here not so much. She crawled out of bed to open the door, intending to snap a grumpy _what_ in His Majesty’s face, only to stop herself. 

The witch, Wanda, looked sheepish. “Oh,” she said. “Did I wake you up?” 

Wanda. Human witch (as opposed to the other witch, sorcerer, mage _,_ whatever he wanted to call it), adorable, almost certainly not interested (not that Val wasn’t going to try). Almost unbearably sweet. It wasn’t anything she deserved, but she wasn’t going to say no. 

“Only a little,” Val said with a smile. “It’s fine. Should’ve been up earlier anyway.” 

Wanda relaxed and smiled, visibly relieved. “Good,” she said. “That’s good. I wondered if you wanted to go for a walk. It’s a lovely day, not too hot…”

Val shrugged. “Sure, why not?” 

Her smile was bright and infectious. Norns, Val was a sucker. “I was going to bring some food,” she said. “For a picnic?” 

Val raised her eyebrows with a bit of a smirk. “Just the two of us?” She turned a little pink, and Val let her smile widen. “Sounds like fun.”

Her sense of smell was recovering, somewhat, and Wakanda smelled good. Clean. These people were proud of their country, but not proud like Asgard had been proud, convinced that everyone else was beneath them and should know it. Wanda kept hinting that Val should spend more time with the Dora Milaje - the King’s elite royal guard. Val had tried to say _thanks, but no thanks_ as gently as she could. She wouldn’t - couldn’t - be one of them, and even if she could, she wasn’t in a hurry to go adopting new sisters. Millennia-old wounds could still feel fresh. 

“What are you thinking about?” Wanda asked. Val glanced at her and almost said something flippant.

“Why are you so friendly to me?” She asked. “I’m not saying that because...I honestly just want to know.” 

Wanda smiled a little. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Why would you be?” Val countered.

Wanda’s expression sobered, losing some of its brightness, its sweetness. “Why do I need a specific reason to want to make a friend?” 

Val opened her mouth and the closed it. _You were on Sakaar too long._ Well, it wasn’t like she hadn’t known _that_ already. _Not_ everyone’s _a self-centered asshole._ Just a lot of them. 

But not Wanda. Not Steve, or Thor, or the other people here who’d introduced themselves and welcomed her in.

“I guess I haven’t been in the business of making friends for a while,” she said after a long pause. Wanda glanced away.

“I know how that is,” she said. “You can get out of practice.” 

Val gave her a quick look. Thor had given her a crash course in the people who were staying here (as well as the ones who weren’t, former friends His Highness seemed _very_ put out with), but he hadn’t said much about backgrounds and personal histories. Though he’d also admitted he didn’t know the Maximoffs well, or Scott at all.

“Pietro and I spent a long time on our own,” Wanda said, looking at the trees rather than at Val; she got the sense that she was ashamed. “Isolated from everyone else. It seemed safer. Of course, that ultimately made it easier for HYDRA to take advantage of our anger and our grief, but at the time…” She trailed off. 

“Hydra?” Val asked blankly. She hated this part. Feeling like there was so much she didn’t know and people kept forgetting to tell her. _It gets easier,_ Thor had assured her. _You pick up the important things and everything else...just let it wash over you._

“Oh,” Wanda said. “Sorry. They are - were? - are a...group of people who did...terrible things. To me and Pietro, and Steve. And - a lot of other people, over the years.” 

“Are, or were?” 

“I don’t know,” Wanda said. “It’s been a while since anyone heard from them, but I don’t feel like I can assume that they’re gone.” She paused. “Loki might know.” 

Val felt her eyebrows lift higher. “Loki?” There was someone she hadn’t talked to much. At all. Or maybe he wasn’t talking to her - hard to tell. There was a puzzle. She’d taken one look at him on Sakaar and smelled trouble all over him, but not _Odinson._ Well, apparently he’d been disowned. Or at least disinherited. That on its own probably meant he merited another look. 

Wanda nodded. “A while ago he and James - Bucky - went hunting them. Trying to kill them all.” Her voice hardened a little, her eyes barely tinting red for a moment before fading back to brown. So she sympathized with that. Val wasn’t surprised that Wanda had teeth, but it was the first time she’d shown them to Val. 

“Loki doesn’t seem like the type to leave a job half finished,” she said. 

“No,” Wanda said. “I wouldn’t think so. But with them...people have thought they were gone before, but they just came back with a new leader. ‘Cut off one head, two more will take its place.’” 

“Lovely.” Val flexed her fingers. “Well, if you see any heads pop up near you, point me in their direction. I could use a little light decapitation.” 

Wanda gave her a startled, shocked look and then seemed to decide she was joking and laughed. “All right,” she said, smiling again. “I’ll let you know.” 

“Thanks,” Val said later, laying out the blanket Wanda brought while she unpacked the food. Wanda looked up.

“For what?” 

“For putting in the effort,” she said. “You’re right. I’m out of practice.” 

Wanda broke into a smile. “It’s not much of an effort,” she said. “You’re honestly doing very well.” 

“Still,” Val said. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome,” Wanda said. Her smile softened and she leaned over to put her hand over Val’s, looking her earnestly in the eye, and she didn’t need this. Really didn’t. It still felt...sweet, though, and it’d been a long time since Val had _sweet_ that wasn’t the sickly kind. 

Besides, _unattainable_ was probably a better quality than most of the people she fucked since Kára died. Even if _you’ve made worse choices_ wasn’t exactly an endorsement. 

“What’re you thinking about now?” Wanda asked. Val grinned at her. 

“You,” she said. Wanda turned pink again and looked down. _This is ridiculous._

_So it’s ridiculous. Who cares?_

_You can do this._

Maybe that was actually true. 

* * *

She came back from the picnic with Wanda and walked into her suite to find Thor’s brother standing there inspecting Dragonfang. She stopped dead. 

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t run you through with that,” she said. 

“Thor would be upset,” Loki said without turning. The shit. “And you like him.” He set the blade down and turned. “He likes you, too. Admires you.”

“What are you doing here,” Val said, too flat to be a question. Loki smiled blandly at her. 

“Apparently my brother thinks I’m not being welcoming enough toward you.”

“If this is your being welcoming,” she said, “I could do without it.” 

“This isn’t,” Loki said. “This is me trying to solve a puzzle.” 

“Me? I’m an open book,” Val said. Loki snorted. 

“You were cunning enough to keep yourself alive and free on Sakaar,” he said. “I hope you’ll forgive me if I have some doubts about your ‘simple bruiser’ performance.” 

“It’s not a performance,” she said. “I’m very good at bruising.” She didn’t quite crack her knuckles. She didn’t think she needed to. They stared at each other across the distance of the room, and she looked him over, assessing as she hadn’t really done before. 

Skinny, but she suspected he was stronger than he looked. A mage, and she didn’t know much about what he could do in that arena. Something else, too: the way he held himself, coiled tight, wary, watchful. The look of someone who’d gotten used to being hunted. 

Yeah, this one had been around. Seen a couple different hells. Hands never far from his knives. 

That actually made her relax. “So you don’t trust me,” she said, crossing her arms. “Is that all you came here to tell me?” 

He unwound, a little. Or made it look like he had; she wasn’t sure whether or not to believe it. “No,” he said, with a little flicker of a smile, mostly humorless. “I actually _did_ come to talk to you. Thor likes you, Steve likes you, and apparently Wanda is fond of you as well. None of them necessarily have the best judgment, but they’re frequently startlingly accurate judges of character. And I, as I am often told, am overly suspicious.”

_Accurate judges of character._ She wasn’t sure she agreed with that. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to disagree, either. Stupid, but Val sort of wanted the three of them to be right about her. “You know when I saw you hovering around Gast I assumed you were fucking him,” she said, brutally crude. Loki cocked his head to the side. 

“I would have,” he said. “Steve said no.” 

That caught her off guard. She’d expected more indignation. Or denial. Val eyed him carefully, then walked over to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of - something. She still didn’t know what most of the alcohol here was. Couldn’t really taste much of a difference, and didn’t particularly care. 

“You and Thor,” she said after a moment. “You’re not what I’d expect from sons of Odin.” 

“I will take that as a compliment, all things considered.” 

She brought her glass over to the couch and flopped onto it, just to show how unconcerned she was about his presence. Though she was still watching him closely. “So what’d you do?” She asked. “To piss off the old Crow?”

“Tried to murder Thor, tried to destroy Jotunheim, and tried to conquer this planet,” Loki said. “None successful, mind. And technically he didn’t _disown_ me. Just disinherited me and rescinded my citizenship.” His voice and words were flippant, but there was a little tension around his eyes. Issues there. Not surprising. 

That list of crimes was more interesting. “Am I supposed to be impressed?” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you?” 

She sucked loudly on her teeth. “Not really, no.” Loki seemed to find that funny. Or he laughed, at any rate, and his grin actually seemed genuine. Like always, Val couldn’t help but push. “Your sister did it worse.” 

That knocked the smile off. Or rather, turned it sharper. “I don’t mind losing that contest.” 

“If you don’t want people making that comparison,” Val said, “you might want to think about changing your color scheme.” Loki just looked at her for a long moment, his expression smoothing, and now she really couldn’t read it. 

“You aren’t what I would have expected, either,” he said. “Of a Valkyrie.” 

“I bet I’m not,” Val said blandly. 

“I think I like you better for it, if that means anything,” Loki said. Val eyed him doubtfully. He was still wearing that mask, and she didn’t like it, didn’t trust it.

“So you tried to destroy Jotunheim,” she said after a moment. “Does that have anything to do with your visit there?” 

“Is that any of your business?” His voice was cool, but there was a nerve there she was close to striking. Val debated going for it, and decided she wouldn’t. He hadn’t actually _done_ anything. He was just making her tetchy, and she didn’t really want to start making enemies. Not to mention she didn’t think this one was a good enemy to have. 

“Not really,” she said. “Just curious.”

Loki’s face stayed blank. After a moment, he shrugged. “It was, in part,” he said. “But it was also...I am not Aesir. I am…” His lips twisted, briefly. “My _blood_ is Jotun.” 

Val felt her eyebrows shoot up and looked him obviously up and down. “You don’t look like it.” 

“I’m a shapeshifter,” Loki said, voice still bland though his eyes were...intent. She suspected she was being tested. She sort of wanted to punch him for that. 

“Huh,” she said. “So is that why the weird or are you just...weird?” 

Loki’s eyebrows lifted, but then he just - laughed, though there was a bit of an odd edge to it. “Mm. I don’t think a determination has been made on that question.” 

“Did I pass?” Val asked bluntly. “Your test.”

“One of them.” He rubbed his thumb absently across his lip, regarding her thoughtfully. 

“If you’re going to keep standing there,” she said, “sit down and have a drink at least.” He looked genuinely startled by that, and she gave him a crooked smile. “Might as well be more comfortable while you’re trying to feel me out to see if I’m going to stab you or one of yours in the back.” 

“Hm,” he said after a moment. He didn’t take her up on the drink, but he did sit down, crossing his long legs and leaning back. 

“So,” she said. “What do you think so far?”

“Of you?” Loki hummed under his breath. “I think that you don’t really know what you’re doing here. That you came here mostly because you didn’t want to be with the rest of Asgard, because the way they look at you sets your teeth on edge, and the weight of their expectations you find unbearable.” 

She took a slow sip of her drink so she didn’t say something cutting. “Sounds like you have some experience with that.” 

“I know something about expectations, yes.” His fingers tapped idly against his leg. “Though mine tend to run in the other direction.” Loki paused, and said, “I sent Steve after you because I thought you might be something other than your exterior suggested. And Steve is...good at drawing things out of people they didn’t know were there.”

That was a good way of putting it, she thought. And the way Loki said it...yeah, she wasn’t the only one in this room.

“You’re lucky,” she said. Glancing toward the windows so she wasn’t looking at him. “Having someone like that.”

“I know.” Two words, simple, but Val could hear the weight in them. Something in her chest hurt, a little, thinking of Kára, who’d always grounded her, always balanced her, her recklessness against Kára’s steady courage. Always at each others’ sides. 

She pushed the memories away. Val could feel Loki watching her, and wondered bitterly what he saw. “You can leave now,” she said pointedly. “If you’re done with the inspection.” 

“I’m done.” Loki stood. “Thank you for your indulgence.” He half smiled. “Not that my opinion matters much, but I think you’ll do fine.”

“You’re right,” she said. “It doesn’t matter.” 

But she found she was a little gratified just the same. The little twitch at the corner of his mouth before he left suggested he knew it. Asshole. 

Val thought she might actually like him. 

* * *

She and Thor spent almost an hour trying to break each others’ faces before he called a halt, grinning. “Giving up already?” She challenged. 

“Never,” Thor said brightly. “Just a pause for some water.”

“A likely story,” she said. “I’m onto you, Odinson.” 

He shook his head, but he looked like he wanted to laugh, so she was calling it good. She leaned against one of the walls and eyed a hole in it.

“If King T’Challa asks,” she said, “that was you.” 

Thor did laugh at that, taking a gulp of water from a plastic bottle. When he lowered it, his expression sobered. “How are you?”

“Great,” she said immediately. “I was winning.” 

Thor huffed and frowned. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“I know what you meant,” she said. “But it’s a stupid question.” 

“Why is it a stupid question?” 

“Because-” Val grimaced at nothing. “It just is. What do you want me to say? It’s weird. Everything is weird. I’m on a new planet with a bunch of strangers and I’m starting to get sober because of the miserable lack of any decent alcohol. But it’s fine. I’ve been worse.” She narrowed her eyes. “And don’t you _dare_ start pitying me.”

Thor held up his hands. “I wasn’t even considering it.”

Val shrugged. “Your brother doesn’t trust me.”

Thor grimaced. “What did he do?” 

“Snuck into my room and as good as interrogated me about my intentions,” Val said. Thor looked pained. “But it’s fine. I think we understand each other.”

“Loki is…” Thor seemed to be looking for the right words. “Suspicious. And cynical.”

“I got that.” Val rolled her shoulders back. “I got the impression someone fucked him up good.”

Thor’s expression pinched and she thought she was going to get some kind of non-answer to the non-question, but he sighed. “A few things, I think,” he murmured. “Loki has not...had the easiest of decades.” 

“Guessing that goes for you both.” 

Thor seemed to be considering something, then said, his expression a little grim, “I didn’t spend a year in Thanos’s company.”

A chill went down Val’s spine. “There’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.” 

“You’ll be hearing it more now,” Thor said. “I expect we’ll be discussing the issue soon.”

Val went over what she knew of Thanos. Yeah, _fucked up good_ would probably describe the effects of that. “You two aren’t very lucky, are you,” she said. 

The strain in Thor’s smile would be hard to catch if you weren’t looking for it. “We’re both still alive.”

“Low bar,” Val said, but she let that one go. Thor wanted to act like he wasn’t fighting his own battles, that was good with her. She was fine with that kind of pretending. 

Thor stretched his arms overhead and let them fall along with his smile. “I’m glad,” he said. “That you don’t hold it against me.”

“You mean, your father?” Val said. “And the fact that he sent me and all my sisters to the chopping block because he couldn’t control his wayward daughter?” Thor winced, a little, but only a little.

“Yes,” he said. “That.”

“I’m glad you don’t hold it against me that I netted you and sold you into slavery,” Val said after a beat. “Pretty sure we’re even. Besides, even with the one eye I’m not going to mistake you for him. Odin Allfather didn’t sit down with his subjects and try to explain Midgardian sports.” 

“I thought you would like rugby,” Thor said. “All the tackling.”

“You’re forgetting that I watched people kill each other for a couple hundred years,” Val said. “Competitive sports lose a little bit of their shine after a while.” 

“I hadn’t actually considered that,” Thor said, his eyebrows knitting together in that way he had when he was concerned about something but not sure if he should say it. 

“Don’t get like that,” she said. “Sakaar was shit, sure, but it’s also behind me. And it’s not like I didn’t fit right in. I probably could’ve stayed there pretty happily if Steve Rogers hadn’t come along to remind me what decency looks like.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Thor said with a gentleness that made her teeth itch. “Something else would have woken you up eventually. You’re not as heartless as you pretend to be. You and Loki have that in common.” 

Val grimaced. “Not sure how I feel about that comparison,” she said.

Thor’s lips twitched. “He said the same thing.” 

Val scowled and cast about for something to throw at him. Unfortunately, she’d left all her blades in her room. “Is this your way of begging me to kick your ass?” 

He grinned at her, all cocky overconfidence. “If you think you can.”

“Oh,” she said. “Trust me, I can. I’m going to knock you flat and then I’m going to go flirt with your adorable girlfriend.”

Thor scoffed. “We’ll see.” 

This - this was why she liked Thor. He made it easy. Easy to talk to, easy to be with. Val needed more ‘easy’ in her life these days. She didn’t think there was going to be a lot of it in the future. 

All these _good people._ And her. But yeah, she was doing fine. 


	3. Thor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy, it sure has been a week, hasn't it? Maybe a good time for some sweet Thor POV? (I feel like I've hardly written any Thor POV in this verse, which is really too bad, because I do like writing his POV.) 
> 
> Final chapter will be going up on Sunday, and that's about all I've got because I am _exhausted_ and kind of just want to crawl into bed for the next week or so.

He had been absent a long time, and Thor felt it. 

There was so much that he didn’t know. And so much of it was bad. Among the ill news was that T’Challa had been crowned the King of his nation. 

It would not have been ill news, except that it was because his father had been murdered. A casualty of the same conflict that had ripped Thor’s friends apart, that had made a large portion of them fugitives in their own Realm. The conflict that left him feeling as though there was one of his friends he could no longer trust. 

(His own shield-brother, who had taken Doom’s work and used it against Loki. Knowing its foul source, having seen its previous use. No, Thor was not pleased with Tony Stark.)

But his greater concern right now was with T’Challa, stepping up beside him on the balcony where Thor watched the rain-clouds move on the horizon. 

“I would congratulate you on your coronation,” Thor said after a few moments of silence. “Save that it came with such grief.”

“I understand that I am not the only one to have lost a king and father,” T’Challa said. If he had always been a solemn and pensive man, now he was somber: aware, Thor thought, of the heavier weight on his shoulders, and tempered by loss. Thor wished it were not so familiar a look as it was. 

His youth felt so far away, sometimes. 

“I do not bear the crown of Asgard yet,” Thor said. “My mother still rules.” _What is left._

“May she rule for many years yet,” T’Challa said. 

“Norns willing,” Thor said. Frigga had given him the means to reach her through magic, but she felt very far away nonetheless - out of his reach. If something were to go wrong, he would be too far away to help. That tugged at him, one duty pulling him back to Asgard even as another held him here. But was he just remaining here because he _wanted_ to stay? Because he did not wish to be Asgard’s king? “And may your reign, my friend, bring only peace and prosperity to your people. You bear your crown well.” 

T’Challa’s expression sobered. “I am afraid that thus far my reign has brought only the opposite,” he said. 

“I am given to understand there was an attempted coup?” Thor asked. The details were still blurry to him, though he had not sought them out - it did not feel like his business. T’Challa gave him a long stare, unblinking. 

“Yes,” he said, finally. “Past injustice, I think, always eventually returns.” 

Thor thought of Hela, locked away and erased from memory; Asgard’s bloody history turned on Asgard itself. “I think you may be right.” He paused, wondering if he was meant to ask, and decided that T’Challa would not broach the subject without purpose. “To what injustice do you refer?” 

“My father murdered his brother,” T’Challa said quietly, after a long pause. “And left my cousin behind, on his own. But he returned, and returned with a heart hungry for vengeance.” 

Thor turned fully toward T’Challa. He thought of Loki, on the Bifrost, spitting madness that Thor could not understand. “Your father…”

“It grows easier to say,” T’Challa said, still looking outward. “I loved him. And he was wrong.”

“I know something of that,” Thor said quietly. He was not sure it was something he would voice to Loki, at least not easily, at least not yet. But if his father had once seemed infallible, all knowing, wise and just in all things - Thor’s faith in him had been shaken, one thing after another. 

The revelation of the foundation on which his rule had been built was only the latest of disappointments. And that was a bitter thing, when he might never be able to ask Odin for explanation, never be able to face him and ask all the questions he wanted answered. 

“I suppose all children wish to believe that their fathers are infallible.” T’Challa sighed. “But it is not my father I thought to speak with you about.” 

“Your cousin,” Thor said. It was not truly a question. T’Challa made a noise of agreement. “Because of Loki,” he said, also not a question.

“Yes,” T’Challa said. “You are the person I know with the most experience with...difficult family members.” 

Thor huffed without any real humor. “I am not sure what advice I can offer you,” he said. “That Loki and I have resolved things as much as we have...is more due to Steve, I think, than to me.” 

“That cannot truly be so.” Thor sighed. 

“Loki did not speak to me for almost a year after he first came to live at the Tower,” he said. “His door remained closed, and spelled to burn me if I so much as touched it.” T’Challa winced. “He only spoke to me at all when Steve was in danger.” 

T’Challa did not look happy with his answer. “I wish I had something more encouraging to offer you,” Thor added. 

T’Challa shook his head. “Time is probably a part of it,” he said. “But I cannot help but think that there must be some way to reach him, and I just have not found it yet.” 

Thor felt a pang. He remembered that feeling: the certainty that there must be _something_ he could say, or do, that would break through Loki’s walls and his madness and get him to _listen._

Perhaps… “Perhaps it is just to listen,” Thor said slowly. “Whatever he has to say to you, to...hear it. I think that was part of my mistake, with Loki. Focusing on trying to puzzle out what I could do, and not what he wanted.” 

T’Challa turned his head back to look down at his hands on the railing, or perhaps at the ground below. “He says that I wronged him by letting him live. Death over bondage, he said, and I ignored him.” 

Thor’s stomach lurched and he was looking down at Loki hanging over the abyss all over again, watching his fingers uncurl from Gungnir. It was not the same, he knew it was not the same, and yet it still made some part of him flutter with panic and the urge to go seek out his brother. He cleared his throat. “He may yet change his mind,” Thor said. _Loki has,_ he thought, but did not say. He doubted Loki would want that information shared, and in truth Thor did not want to speak it.

“I can hope.” 

“What of your family?” Thor asked. “Your mother and sister?” 

“Neither approve. I cannot blame them for it. Nakia-” Thor recognized the fond and slightly rueful expression T’Challa’s face took on, “-feels the same, I think, but is more tactful. Okoye is even less. But they humor me.”

“It does not make things easier, though,” Thor said quietly. He reached out and laid a hand on T’Challa’s shoulder. “I am sorry I do not have more useful advice.” 

“No,” T’Challa said. “You don’t need to apologize. Just to speak to someone of all of this...is a relief.”

“I hope that your family heals quickly,” Thor said. “All of them. And that your people do as well.” 

“They will,” T’Challa said. “Wakanda - Wakandans - are strong.” He glanced at Thor, and said, “and so, I am sure, are Asgardians.” 

“Yes,” Thor said. “We are.”

* * *

Thor waited a while before seeking out Wanda Maximoff, mostly because he wasn’t entirely sure how to approach her. The last words they’d actually exchanged had been about Loki - after he’d shared the news about Thanos with the Avengers, before leaving Earth for what had been a much longer absence than anticipated. 

He hadn’t trusted her intentions then. Hadn’t trusted _her._ And he certainly would not have expected _Loki_ to do either, considering the circumstances of their first encounter. 

Even now, his brother could still surprise him. Not as often as Loki would probably like, but just the same. 

He was also taking the time to see if Loki would see to telling her the truth on his own in any kind of timely manner. He was fairly sure he wouldn’t, but Thor hoped Loki would surprise him in that, too. 

Ultimately, he ended up catching her with Jane, the two of them discussing a book - _A Tale of Two Cities_ by Charles Dickens, apparently - though Wanda fell immediately silent when he entered. Jane smiled at him. 

“Hey, Thor,” she said. “Welcome to book club.” 

“I am sorry for interrupting,” Thor said, walking over as casually as he could to kiss Jane on the top of her head, and pretending not to notice the wide-eyed and nervous way that the witch was looking at him. “But actually - I’ve been hoping for the chance to speak with Lady Maximoff.”

“Oh,” she said, blinking twice. “Well - of course. What is it?” 

Thor glanced at Jane, who raised her eyebrows. “Private conversation? All right. I’ve got a call with Nkeoma in twenty anyway.” 

“Thank you,” Thor said, and smiled at Jane, who smiled back at him, standing up. 

“I’ll see you soon,” she said to Wanda, and then lowered her voice and said to Thor, “be nice.” 

Thor sat down in the place Jane had vacated and looked at Wanda, who was not quite looking at him. “Lady Maximoff,” he said politely. “I hope you have been well.”

“I can’t complain,” Wanda said. “I’ve been - I’ve been lucky.”

“Good,” Thor said. “I am glad to hear it. We had little chance to speak, before I departed, but it seems Steve, Loki, and Jane all think well of you. I am sorry to have taken so long to greet you properly.” 

Her eyes widened and she turned a little pink. “You don’t need to apologize! You’ve been gone, and besides - you only just returned to Earth. I wouldn’t expect you to come and visit _me._ ”

Thor scrutinized her. According to Loki, she was very powerful, and Thor believed his judgment, but she struck Thor as nervous, and young. He wondered how much of the first was down to his presence, and what she expected from him. 

“I hear that it is you I must thank for ending Amora’s malice,” Thor said. Wanda’s expression firmed. 

“Yes,” she said. “She hurt Pietro, and Steve, and Loki.” She sounded almost defensive, like she expected Thor to object. 

“In truth,” Thor said grimly, “it should have been done before now.” Wanda gave him a startled look that he met levelly, and after a moment she dropped her gaze again. 

“Did you just come here to talk with me, or was there something in particular you wanted to discuss?” 

To business, then. “I understand that Loki has been training you in magic,” Thor said carefully. Wanda’s hands twisted together. She glanced at him and then back down at them.

“He has been, yes. He’s been very helpful,” she added, like Thor might think it was otherwise. 

“Good,” Thor said, hoping to set her a little at ease. “That is good.” He paused, sparing a moment to be annoyed at Loki for not seeing to this himself. But if he knew Loki - and he did - he was going to avoid saying anything for as long as possible. 

And Thor was not about to let him get away with that. 

“He said that he’d also been...asking you for help in dealing with the possibility that Thanos may take control of his mind,” Thor said. 

“He did,” she said, still watching him sidelong, and then breathed out and said, “may I ask you directly what you are trying to say?”

Bluntly, then. “My brother would accuse me of being reckless, but he can be the same,” Thor said. “Particularly with his own safety, particularly when he thinks it is necessary. When I spoke to him about this matter, Loki was more honest with me than I believe he has been with you about what he has been teaching you to do.”

He could see by the dawning look on her face that she already knew, but she asked just the same. “What is that, then?” 

“Whatever spellwork he has told you to use in the event that Thanos claims control,” Thor said bluntly, “it will kill him.”

The pure, wide-eyed, horrified look that Wanda gave him was pure relief. She hadn’t known, and didn’t approve. She rose in his estimation. “It _what?_ ” She shook herself, and said, “does he know that?”

Thor thought she probably knew the answer, and was just hoping it was something else. “He knows.” 

Her expression went from surprise to anger and she looked like she was going to get up and storm off to confront his brother then and there, and only just stopped herself. “I didn’t know,” she said, and then, “I _should_ have known, he’s so - he’s so-” 

She cut off and shot him a slightly nervous look, like she expected an objection. Thor smiled faintly. “Whatever you were about to say,” he said, “I don’t imagine it would be anything I haven’t thought myself at one point or another.” 

Wanda blushed faintly, and looked down. “I won’t do it,” she said after a moment. “I won’t. If that’s what you were going to ask me…”

“I was.” Thor didn’t bother to deny it. “But it’s clear I would not have needed to ask.” 

“He’s a friend,” Wanda said, sounding oddly hesitant to say so. “I don’t want...I’ll talk to him. There has to be another way.” 

Thor’s relief deepened. He had not been entirely sure what to think - it had been clear, of course, that Steve trusted Wanda, but all Thor had been able to think of was his own nightmarish vision, and Loki’s near collapse after what she’d done to him.

“I don’t know if...I don’t think I ever had the chance to apologize to you,” Wanda said, looking down again. “For attacking you. And I know it’s late, but...I am sorry.”

“Thank you,” Thor said, a little taken aback. “It is well. It seems most of my dearest friends care for you, as do my brother and Jane. For their sake even if nothing else, I would forgive your past misdeeds.” He smiled, faintly. “Loki would tell you I have forgiven him worse.” 

“He’s your brother,” Wanda said, and Thor could hear how she understood what a difference that made. He warmed toward her a little more. 

“Loki speaks very highly of you,” he said. “As he does of few people. He does not - never has - opened his heart easily. On those grounds alone, Lady Maximoff, I would be inclined to consider you a friend of mine as well. This conversation, brief though it may have been, has only affirmed that judgment.” 

She flushed slightly, ducking her head and tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “I’m honored,” she murmured. 

“And I would be grateful,” he said, “if you did speak to Loki. He isn’t always inclined to listen to me. Perhaps more than one voice will help convince him of the folly of this plan.”

Her mouth set. “I’ll make sure it does,” she said firmly, and Thor did not envy his brother the tongue-lashing he suspected he was to receive. But he did not feel in the least bit guilty for prompting it, either. 

* * *

So many things had changed in Thor’s absence. New friends. Old friends turned enemies. An always fractured Midgard seemingly more fractured than Thor had left it. 

And then there was Jane. Sweet, clever, _radiant_ Jane, who had built a Bifrost across the universe. (“Half,” she insisted. “Half a Bifrost. A third, really, it doesn’t work without Loki’s magic and I couldn’t have even _started_ without Nkeoma’s theories, and - why are you smiling like that?”)

It had been a long time - too long, far longer than he’d meant - but she let him step back into her life with no hesitation. He was fortunate, in her. Truly, beyond measurement. 

He told her so, and she laughed and turned pink. “Of all the girls who could’ve run over you in the desert,” she said, which Thor had a feeling was a reference he didn’t understand. 

Jane, who he was now watching - while pretending not to - as she worried at the end of her pen, frowning at a page of equations with the familiar and endearing furrow between her eyebrows.

Abruptly, she stopped chewing on the end of her pen and set it down. “Hey, Thor,” she said. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course,” Thor said, smiling. She did not quite smile back. 

“Do you...you know. Think about getting married?” 

Thor couldn’t say he was surprised by the question. He couldn’t say he was surprised by the question coming now, either - hadn’t he thought of it himself, while assisting in the myriad preparations for Steve and Loki’s nuptials? “I do,” he said. “I have.” 

“You’ve never brought it up.” Thor hesitated, and she waved a hand quickly. “I’m not saying - obviously I haven’t either, and I didn’t mean…” She trailed off, and sighed. “I guess I was just wondering. Between Steve and Loki, and...what happened to Asgard…” 

Asgard. Thor tried not to flinch. He knew she was not chastising him - Jane, above all others, would not do so - but it still gave him a pang to think of Asgard vulnerable and battered and he not there with it. “I have not wanted to presume,” he said finally. 

Jane pulled a bit of a face. “Presume what?”

“That you would want…” Thor walked over and sat down. “I wasn’t certain that you would wish to bind yourself to me in that way.” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Jane asked, and then ducked her head, her ears turning a little pink. “I just mean...how long have we been together?”

“ _Do_ you want to be wed?” Thor asked. Jane hesitated, and Thor felt his stomach drop. 

“Marriage, specifically? I don’t know,” she said. “That’s never been...I’m not that attached to the institution, if you know what I mean.” Thor wasn’t sure he did, but he nodded anyway. “But...that’s not because I don’t want to...be with you. Make a commitment, or whatever.” 

Thor sat down. “I know I’ve been often away,” he said. “Recently...longer than most. I have worried that it might not be fair to you, when I am divided between two Realms.”

“I’ve always known that about you,” Jane said. 

“And it doesn’t trouble you?” Thor asked. “When I have left - when I have been gone as I was, not knowing when I would return…”

“Of course it bothers me,” Jane said. “I don’t _like_ it when you’re gone. But like I said - I knew what I signed up for. And as far as I’m concerned it’s been worth it.” 

A flood of relief, and then of warmth and _love,_ flooded through Thor, almost catching him by surprise. He couldn’t help a smile. “Thank you,” he said, and Jane gave him her own small smile.

“You’re welcome.” She paused. “I guess I’m also asking because...like I said, what happened with Asgard. You’re a prince, and that’s always been true, but now…”

She trailed off, but Thor could follow the train of her thoughts, because it was an argument he’d had with Odin, and something he knew himself, though always kept carefully at a distance. He’d always expected to make a diplomatic marriage - for the sake of Asgard, and if he was fortunate it would be as Frigga and Odin’s. (Although - although theirs was built on the bones of a bloody past. He wondered again about Hela’s mother - who she had been, and what had happened to her.) 

He had been told, throughout his youth and adolescence, that he would marry for the sake of strengthening Asgard’s royal house, and sire children who would be heirs to the throne. But...

Thor sighed. “I do not know what is to become of Asgard,” Thor said. “I do not know what my obligations are, now. I wonder if...I wonder if it is not time for a change. The House of Odin has brought...so much pain. To Asgard, to the universe. Perhaps Asgard deserves a new - a truly fresh start.” 

The furrow was back between Jane’s eyebrows. “What do you mean?” 

“I don’t know,” Thor admitted. “I am still...figuring it out. Thinking. But...I do not want - I am unwilling - to choose between you and duty. And I do not want to believe that I have to.”

“But do you have to?” Jane asked, picking at her nails and not really looking at him. Thor reached out to her, extending his hands. 

“I won’t,” he said. He hadn’t accepted the rightness of Loki’s exile, despite all his father’s claims that it was inevitable. Why should he accept that he could not be with Jane?

Jane smiled a little, though it faded quickly. 

“You know that...I probably won’t even live a century. Fifty, sixty more years, maybe. Compared to you…”

“Should I forgo happiness for fear of future loss, then?” Thor said. He thought of Loki, his fear that happiness was only a precursor to pain. He could not live with that dread. Or would not. “As far as I am concerned,” he said, quiet but firm, “you are worth it.” 

Jane’s cheeks turned a little pink and she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Sweet talker.” 

“You searched the stars for me to find me when I was lost,” Thor said. “You, Jane Foster, are an utterly exceptional woman. Married or unmarried, I am glad to stand at your side.” 

She looked studiously down, pinking further. After a long moment, she said quietly, “if you _did_ propose...I wouldn’t say no.” 

“I will remember that,” Thor said slowly. She nodded, quick and a little jerkily, and cleared her throat.

“Now come over here,” she said. “I need you to take a look at these equations and see if you can tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

* * *

Thor did not like being afraid. It was still an emotion that he rebelled at feeling. But it felt sometimes as though it was the one thing that had haunted him almost continually for the last several years, and most specifically fear for his brother, who lived so often close to the edge of despair, who treated his life sometimes like a bauble to be traded away. 

He was better now. Thor knew that. Better, perhaps, than he had been in many long years. But he did not think that fault was gone. Dormant, perhaps, but there were too many things that might waken it again.

“So you are a married man, now,” Thor said to Loki, who had - for once - come to him. Loki’s eyebrows twitched up. 

“So I am,” he said after a moment. “You were there to witness. And weep copiously, as I recall.” 

“I am not ashamed,” Thor said firmly. “There is no reason I would rather shed tears.” 

Loki’s smile faded. “You’ve shed too many for the others.” He stretched out his legs and propped his elbow on the arm of the chair, leaning his chin on his hand. “You told the witchling about what I was teaching her to do.” 

Thor stiffened. “You hadn’t.” 

“It wasn’t exactly a subject I knew how to broach.” Thor shrugged remorselessly, and Loki grimaced. “It just upset her.” 

“She deserved to know,” Thor said. Loki gave him an exasperated look.

“And who in this world ever gets what they deserve, Thor?” Thor just looked at him, and Loki sighed. “Yes, yes. I know you are _right,_ but…”

“Say that again,” Thor said. “The part where you know I’m right.” Loki grabbed a pillow from the couch without looking and threw it at him. Thor caught it easily. _What is it,_ he wanted to ask, _that compels you to seek your own destruction? What is it that makes you hold your life so carelessly?_

_How can I make you see your own worth?_

“I understand that it is a Midgardian custom for newlyweds to go on journeys together,” he said. “When are you to leave?” 

Loki’s lips twisted a little and Thor thought he might be called out for changing subjects, but it appeared he was making a face for another reason. “Our ability to go wandering has been somewhat curtailed,” he said. “I can keep us both hidden, but it’s substantially harder to, for instance, arrange someplace to stay.” 

“Hm.” Thor frowned, making a mental note to make inquiries about that. Steve and Loki both ought to have that respite - and that time together, in peace, to savor each others’ company. They ought to have it now, before the storm that Thor knew was coming. 

“I don’t know that I like the look on your face,” Loki said. “ _I_ am meant to be the schemer of us two.”

Thor gave him a dazzling grin. “What makes you think I am scheming?” 

Loki shook his head, though the corner of his mouth twitched, barely suppressing a smile. Thor’s own smile broadened in answer. 

A moment later Loki looked away, though, his smile fading. “We can’t be thinking too much about such things,” he said. “We need to...like it or not, we need to consider the future.” 

“You mean Thanos,” Thor said, his heart sinking. Loki’s eye twitched, and Thor corrected, “the Mad Titan. Why do you fear his name?” 

“I’ve told you,” Loki said. “Names have power. I don’t know that - fine. Yes. I mean _Thanos._ ” He emphasized the name, though Thor saw his shoulders lock up and he held back the urge to sigh. “There are yet three Infinity Stones whose locations are uncertain, which...troubles me. Power, Time, and Soul. I would like to believe that Thanos doesn’t know where they are either, but I do not. And it is...unfortunately possible that he has some means of tracking them.” 

Loki swallowed, and Thor could see that he had gone pale. “He knows for certain, at least, that the Mind Stone is here. The Tesseract...perhaps not.” Loki pressed his fingers to his temples. “We should, I think, try to discover the locations of the remaining three. And seek out alliances. The Jotnar - obviously I’ve attempted to make an initial overture, though there’s much remaining to be done. If we can reach the Kree, and if they’d be willing to listen, then that is another possibility. Alfheim and Vanaheim remain strong and healthy, so far as I know. And-”

“Loki,” Thor said. His brother had started to talk more and more quickly, words almost tripping over each other, and his right hand was clenched tight enough that his knuckles were white. Loki cut off. He exhaled in a long, slow, hiss. 

“My apologies,” he said stiffly. Thor took a cautious step toward him. 

“You do no one any good by working yourself into a panic over this,” Thor said. “This...the Mad Titan isn’t a problem you can solve on your own, in your head.”

“That isn’t what I am trying to do,” Loki objected. Thor leveled him with a look.

“No?” He said. 

“I have nothing _solved._ Simply half formed thoughts about - possibilities, chances.” Loki ran his fingers through his hair, leaving it mussed. “And none of it very useful.”

“That sounds very much like you trying to solve things on your own,” Thor repeated. Loki grimaced.

“Thor…” He trailed off, and Thor waited. His brother looked away. “I feel we are going to lose.” 

“Of course you do,” Thor said. Loki stiffened, and Thor added, “you _always_ expect the worst, Loki. That does not mean the worst will come.” 

Loki turned, shaking his head. “This is different. This is…” Loki swallowed hard. “I spent nearly a year in his - in _Thanos’s_ company. I know him, I know how he works, I know his strength even _without_ the Infinity Stones.” Loki’s inhale trembled. Thor reached out and clasped Loki’s shoulders, pressing down.

“And you know ours, too,” he said. “That is not nothing.” 

“I know,” Loki said miserably. 

“Have a little faith,” Thor said.

Loki’s expression spasmed. “I lie awake at night wondering which of you will die first,” he said. “You, leaping into battle without hesitation. Steve sacrificing his life for someone - anyone - else. Wanda, her power great but still young and relatively untried. Or will it be James? Or Barton, entirely human and wretchedly vulnerable? T’Challa, and leave his land bereft of its king? Or perhaps he will follow the residue of the Tesseract to an isolated ship full of the last of a decimated people-”

Thor’s stomach lurched in horror and he wished he could contact Frigga right then, speak to her, see her face. “Loki,” Thor said, “this is fear, not fact.”

“I know that, too,” Loki said. “But I know - I have _felt -_ it does not feel an unreasonable one.” He stuttered a bleak laugh. “Sometimes it is me, and that seems merciful.” 

Thor shook his head and tightened his grip. “You cannot assume we have lost before the fight has even begun.” He gave Loki a little shake. “What he did to you - I do not blame you for your fear.”

“I do,” Loki said. 

“I don’t,” Thor repeated. “Nor do I think things are so bleak. As you note, we have allies - or potential allies. And there is strength on this planet alone. And you - you, _alone -_ Thanos tried to break you, and failed.” 

Loki’s laugh had no humor. “Failed?” 

“Yes,” Thor said. “He failed. For here you are, yourself, free of him. Wedded to the man you love, surrounded by friends and shield-companions. A hero of Asgard - and, though they may not know it, of Midgard. You are not even _slightly_ what he tried to make you.”

Loki stared at him like he both did not understand what Thor was saying and desperately wanted to believe it. Thor squeezed his shoulders again. 

“From where I stand,” he said gently, “it seems as though you’ve already won one victory against him.” 

Loki shuddered and dropped his head forward, hiding his face. “Where do you find such faith?” He asked.

“I keep my eyes open,” Thor said simply, instead of saying _with you, for you, I can be strong, and certain, and fearless. But alone-_

Alone, he was afraid. But he would keep that fear in his heart, where it could harm no one else; and watch, and wait, and pray to the Norns that all he said to Loki was true. 


	4. Loki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And last chapter for now. I have an idea for the next installment which is...long and involved, and of course smaller things always come up, but for the moment I am absorbed in frantically trying to finish my fic for the Big Bang (and I should probably...also dedicate some time to working on these five million other WIPs sitting in my lair, heh). All that very much aside, though!
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me on this journey - in general, and specifically for reading through this fic and all its "people talking to each other and having emotions about it." I know that's not everyone's scene, but I'm really glad it's someone's other than just mine. 
> 
> So yeah. Thank you. And if you've come this far and don't know - I've got a [Tumblr](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com) where you can find me writing, yelling about writing, and having way too many feelings about villains (and everything else).

Nothing had actually changed. And everything had. 

It was hard to quantify just _how_ : Loki could just feel it, as though after his wedding he was living in a slightly different world - everything nearly the same and not _quite._

When he thought about it like that, it seemed sinister, but that wasn’t how it felt. No, it was more like he’d stepped out of a shadow and was suddenly standing, blinking, at the world revealed in light. 

_Absurd,_ he scoffed at himself. _You are a fool. A sentimental fool._ But it was a scold that had no real force. The foolish smiles kept creeping onto his face unbidden, and he could not truly wish to shed them. If ever there was anything to be a sentimental fool over…

There were so few things over which he had no regrets, no hesitations. Wedding Steve was one of them. 

What he was doing now, significantly less so. 

He and Barton had been very good at avoiding each other by mutual and silent agreement. Loki could count the exchanges they’d had when Barton was... _himself_ , on one hand. Since Ultron - since Loki’s faltering apology that he had always assumed would be without value - there seemed to have been a cessation of hostilities on Barton’s part. And at the wedding…

Loki had been debating with himself over seeking him out for a conversation, the idea of which was about as appealing as walking through a nest of Asgard’s fire beetles, and decided (coward) that it would be better to leave it to Barton to make that decision. Apparently he had. 

“Hey,” he said, fingers drumming against his thigh in a nervous gesture Barton had never shown when he was Loki’s. “You busy, or…?”

“No,” Loki said carefully. “Not in the least.” He had been marking up some of Dr. Foster’s notes (he had _asked,_ first, this time). “What can I do for you?” 

Barton grimaced. “It isn’t what you can _do_ for me,” he said, then shifted and muttered, “Jesus fuck,” what was probably supposed to be under his breath. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he said, “but I think we should...talk.” 

Loki stared at him. “I cannot believe you are saying that either,” he said. Barton made a sound that was probably intended to be a laugh. 

“Yeah, well,” he said. “I don’t promise to be real good at it.” There was that shift in his speech, Loki noticed. A sign of stress. He was trying to seem casual, but it was wearing on him. It would be easy enough to drive him off; it wouldn’t necessarily take cruelty. 

Loki gestured at one of the chairs. “Sit,” he said, hoping he sounded friendly and open rather than tense and uneasy. “Was there something in particular you wished to discuss?”

“‘Discuss’,” Barton said. “That makes it sound so…” He made an obscure gesture, the meaning of which escaped Loki entirely. His expression must have shown it, because Barton dropped his hand and grimaced. “Yeah, I guess. Let’s _discuss._ ” 

Loki took a seat himself, because Barton hadn’t moved to sit and perhaps he would be more comfortable that way. A moment later Barton muttered something to himself, this time inaudible even to Loki, and walked over to sit down. 

“You know,” he said after a moment of mutual silence, “I wish it were satisfying how nervous you look right now.” 

Loki quickly focused on controlling his face and blanking his expression. His face felt warm and he dearly hoped that there was no flush showing. “It is not?” He said, and his voice, at least, sounded casual.

“Not really, no.” Barton rubbed his hands on his legs. “That’s. Kind of how it is, you know? I’m not actually that good at holding grudges.”

Loki frowned. “I am afraid I don’t follow.” 

“Look,” Barton said, jerking to his feet and walking over to the window, though the second he was there he turned around rather than keeping his back to Loki. “At this point you’re - practically an Avenger and you’re Cap’s newly minted fucking husband, so I feel like maybe now’s a good time to...reassess. And stop acting like I don’t know you live in the same building.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing?” Loki asked. 

“Basically, yeah.” He paused and added, “more or less since day one.”

“Has it been working?” Loki asked, genuinely curious.

“Depends on the day.” Barton rolled his shoulders back. “But like I said. You’re sort of one of the team now, so…”

“So you thought to clear the air,” Loki said. 

“Sort of,” Barton said. “Maybe. I don’t actually know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t actually know what to do with you...in general.” 

Loki was tempted to wince, but he kept himself still. “No?” 

“Yeah,” Barton said. “I mean, you’re not exactly ‘kneel before me’ crazy anymore, are you? But all that shit...still happened. I can’t _forget_ that.” 

“I don’t expect you to,” Loki said, though a part of him wanted to wince. So it was going to be one of _those_ conversations, he thought, a little wearily, and wanted to laugh at himself for expecting something else. 

“Yeah, see,” Barton said, “That’s kind of what throws me. All this time and you haven’t really _once_ tried to _convince_ me of anything, you know? It’s not like you’ve been putting a whole bunch of effort into making a big thing of how you’re, I don’t know, _good_ now.” 

“I am not,” Loki said, almost automatically. Barton gave him an almost scathing look. 

“Yeah,” he said, deadpan. “You’re the worst. Anyway, my point is...I guess I appreciate that.”

Loki’s throat felt oddly tight. He swallowed hard and said, “Even if I had tried, you perhaps more than anyone would be disposed to mistrust me, so it would have been pointless.”

Barton made a _ha!_ noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah,” he said. “I bet that’s why.” The crooked smile faded fast, however. “When Steve told us about Thanos,” he said, “I wasn’t even surprised.”

Loki felt his expression spasm. “What do…” _You remember_ , he almost said, but he cut himself off. Barton raised his eyebrows, walking back to sit down again. 

“What do I remember? A lot, actually. You’ve might’ve - you might’ve been in _my_ head but doors don’t just go one way. And I remember you were fucked _up._ ” He snorted. “Pissed me off, back then. Like you fucking...refusing to eat, or sleep.” His knee jumped up and down, betraying his agitation. “You didn’t mean for that to happen, did you?” 

Loki stared at Barton, not entirely sure how to respond. Finally he said, “not exactly. I’d never used it before. Honestly, I wasn’t sure it would work.” 

“Did, though,” Barton said, his voice flattening. “Like a charm.” 

Yes. It had, and Loki’s chief reaction had been _relief,_ because he wasn’t going to be on his own and maybe, _maybe,_ he could make this work. 

They stared at each other in suddenly uncomfortable silence. Loki looked away first. 

“Like I said,” Barton said after a long pause, “I’m not going to forget shit. I can’t. But, like I also said, I’m shit at holding grudges over the long run. I don’t know about forgiveness. But I can...fuck, I don’t know. Let it go, or...whatever.”

“What I did to you,” Loki said, clarifying. 

“Yeah,” Barton said. “Something like that. I’m working on it.”

Loki considered him for a long moment, biting his tongue. Barton fidgeted. “What?” 

“I have no right to ask anything of you,” Loki said quietly. Barton grimaced. 

“You’re not asking,” he said, “and it’s not about _right._ ”

“Perhaps,” Loki said, and drew a breath that felt strained. “But I am grateful. That you are willing to put in the effort, on my behalf or not. You are…” 

He would not take _a good man._ That, Loki knew, he didn’t believe of himself. So he smiled, crookedly, and said, “you have heart.”

Barton’s face froze. “Don’t fucking say that,” he said. “Seriously. Don’t.”

Loki jerked back a little, though he recovered himself quickly. “I will not,” he said.

Barton rubbed his mouth, looking self-conscious again. “I guess that’s...all I had to say.” He paused. “Wanda, Pietro, and I make dinner on Fridays,” he said in a rush, like he’d had to work his way up to saying it. “You and Steve should come.”

Loki blinked. “I would be delighted to accept,” he said carefully. 

“You could just say ‘sure, sounds good,’” Barton said. “Shorter. Sounds more normal. Just a thought.”

“Simpler is not necessarily better,” Loki said.

“No, but you tend to sound less like a pretentious asshole.” 

Loki wondered who they thought they were going to convince. Or perhaps they were trying to convince each other. “Duly noted,” he said. “I will take the suggestion under advisement.” 

“I bet you will.” Barton smiled, barely. “What do you think, that enough conversation for the day?” 

“I don’t think anyone is counting the minutes,” Loki said.

“Should take a selfie or something,” Barton said. “Wanda’ll be over the fucking moon.”

Loki should not have found that thought as gratifying as he did. Maybe it would even help her forgive him. He raised his eyebrows. “I cannot tell how serious you are.” 

Barton just stared at him for a long moment. “Why the fuck not,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

It was not, Loki thought, a flattering picture. He didn’t think that was the point.

* * *

He first met Wakanda’s princess and heir because she was throwing things at his windows.

He wasn’t there at the time; was with Wanda, in fact, practicing, only to stop short when he felt something _ping_ against his wards, like a nail flicking glass. Nothing dangerous, he could tell immediately, but not expected, either. Once might have been accidental. Twice, and three times…

Loki excused himself without raising the alarm. That might be a mistake, but if someone with any knowledge of wards were testing them, it wouldn’t feel like this; and anyone without knowledge would have no reason to think Loki would sense anything. 

He circled around outside and found the culprit squinting up at the windows. He took her in for a moment before speaking: young, Wakandan, casually dressed, unfamiliar.

“Looking for something?” He said. She jumped and turned around, face going from startled to delighted without even a brief pause for contrition between. 

“Did you know something was happening?” She asked. “Is that why you’re here?” 

“If you were trying to get my attention,” Loki said slowly, narrowing his eyes, “there are better ways to go about it. Knocking on the front door would be a start.” 

She seemed undeterred. “I was going to,” she said. “But - did you know? Could you tell someone was tampering with the field?” 

_The field._ She must mean his wards. “Who are you?” Loki asked pointedly, and she blinked and then crossed her arms over her chest.

“Shuri,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to come out here and ask you some questions, but things were busy and then you were in space, so…” Loki looked at her blankly, the name taking a moment to place. 

“King T’Challa’s sister,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “So…?”

Ah. Her question. “Yes,” he said. “I could tell.” After a moment he added, because her nonchalance was, frankly, worrying, “you’re fortunate I didn’t take it for an attempt at an ambush.” 

She frowned. “How could you tell?” 

“I feel it,” Loki said.

“What does that-”

“May I ask what your purpose is?” Loki interrupted her. She looked surprised, and then, finally, a little sheepish. 

“Like I said,” she said, “I’ve been meaning to come here for a while, since I saw your notes on the security measures you’re using.” She tapped the beads on her wrist and what did indeed look like a projection of a copy of his notes appeared above her wrist. 

“You can’t learn magic,” Loki said bluntly. She gave him a look that bordered on annoyed.

“I _know,_ ” she said. “That’s not the point. If I know how it works I might be able to replicate it, and even if I can’t now maybe someone down the line will be able to, and even if _nobody_ can it’s still good to know. And your notes aren’t very clear.”

Loki stared at her, and she started to look perhaps a bit embarrassed.

It occurred to him abruptly that a decade ago he would have given anything to have someone show such avid interest in his work. Such open curiosity and determination. The way _he’d_ been, once, chasing down obscure theories, hounding every mage he could find. The still half finished magical treatise sitting in his personal storage that no one would ever read. 

He exhaled, and gestured at the windows. “Why were you throwing things at them?” 

She brightened a bit. “I was wondering about the distinction between organic and inorganic that you’re using,” she said. “And how that accounts, or doesn’t account, for long-range attacks. But - you can tell when something just...hits the field?” 

“The ward,” Loki corrected. “And yes, I can. It feels like someone flicking me.”

She looked a little sheepish again. “Oh,” she said. “Sorry.” A pause, and then, “so it’s...you’re always aware of it, then?”

“Not consciously,” Loki said. “Only when something triggers it.” 

“And how sensitive is that trigger?” She asked. “How much force does it take? I’m guessing something like rain wouldn’t set it off.”

“You guess correctly,” Loki said, beginning to recover his footing. “What you were doing is probably...at the lower end of what I would notice. There is a lower threshold - higher sensitivity - for living things.” 

Shuri straightened. “ _That’s_ what I was really wondering - how does that work? Mechanically, I mean, how does the - _ward_ know what’s living or nonliving? What about animals?” 

Loki frowned slightly. “It knows because I told it to,” he said. Shuri narrowed her eyes.

“That isn’t an answer.” 

“It is the only answer I have for you. You don’t have the language for a more accurate one.” 

Shuri’s chin shot up. “You don’t have to be _condescending,_ ” she said, aiming for indignant, Loki thought, but coming off more like hurt. Loki blinked, more surprised than he probably should be.

“I did not...mean to be,” he said carefully. “The fact is that you don’t.”

“If it’s a language then I can learn it,” Shuri said. Loki studied her. 

“It isn’t just a language,” Loki said. “It is...a way of seeing. A _perspective._ What you are asking me to explain, it is like - I shape the magic, or the energy, if you like, into a form that will do what I need it to. At its most simplistic, all magic is is...bending the world around you to your will. But you cannot make the world do whatever you want. That bending can only occur along certain lines, and the more complicated the working, the more delicate the shaping required.” He stopped, and sighed. “I am not a teacher.”

“Wanda said you taught her.” 

“I taught Wanda how to _use_ her magic. That is different from-” He gestured. “Theory. In all likelihood it would be a waste of time for us both.”

“Try me,” she said, all defiance. So very, very, determined. 

The youngest child in a line of kings. Curious, driven. Did she do this just because she wanted to, or because of the need to prove herself, to show her _worth--_

_She isn’t you. Very far indeed from that._

Loki shook himself. “I’ll think about it,” he said, because he didn’t think a flat _no_ would do anything but gain him a persistent shadow. By the pleased smile that bloomed on her face, he might have one anyway.

“Good!” She said. “Good. I’ll be back tomorrow. I already have a list of questions, but if we have to start with basics then that’s fine.”

“Oh,” Loki said dryly. “Is it?” 

Her smile widened to a mischievous grin. “I can be patient,” she said, which Loki doubted. She paused. “Sorry about the...flicking. Oh, right - congratulations! T’Challa said that you and Steve Rogers got married.”

“Thank you,” Loki said after a moment, wondering how far that news had spread by now. He almost wondered if _Stark_ knew. What he’d do if he did. 

“You’re welcome,” she said. “You should come to Birnin Zana sometime. See some of the real Wakanda. I have a really nice lab.”

Loki pressed his lips together. “I am not terribly fond of _labs._ ” She blinked at him, and he made a dismissive gesture. “Perhaps. It hasn’t seemed very wise, all things considered.” 

“I guess now that diplomats are actually paying attention…” Shuri sighed. “Well. I should probably go, there’s some kind of meeting I’m supposed to go to... _tomorrow,_ right?”

Loki’s lips twitched slightly. “Tomorrow, then,” he said. After she left, he stood there for several moments, feeling a little as though a strong wind had just blown through. He shook his head, and himself, and turned to go back indoors and out of the heat. 

Perhaps he would pull out that treatise after all. It had been over a decade since he’d so much as looked at the thing. He would have to see how much of what he’d written was remotely salvageable. 

Norns. He was going to have to hammer out some sort of _curriculum,_ wasn’t he? He doubted that Princess Shuri would take no for an answer. 

Well, at the very least he probably wouldn’t be _bored._

* * *

“So,” James said, sprawled across most of the couch. “You’re married now.”

“Indeed,” Loki said. “You were there, if I recall.” 

James scowled at him. “Nobody likes a smartass,” he said. Loki raised his eyebrows. 

“People seem to like you just fine,” he said. James’s scowl deepened, and Loki spread his hands. “You set me up so well. It was almost too easy for me to take the opportunity.”

“But you did anyway.” James shook his head a little, but the corner of his lips twitched. “It was...nice. Quite a crowd. Even before the unexpected guest.” That flicker of a smile faded, and Loki cocked his head to the side. 

“Romanov, you mean.” 

“The Black Widow. Yeah.” 

It was a subtle correction, but, Loki thought, a correction just the same. “You do not like her.” 

“I don’t _trust_ her.” James swung his legs off the couch and sat up. “She doesn’t trust me, either, which makes us even as far as I’m concerned.”

“Why not?” Loki asked. “Steve does.” 

James’s expression darkened. “Which is why I haven’t said anything.” He drummed his fingers on his leg. “I know a thing or two about the people who trained her. Vicious and ruthless, and they bred their assassins the same. Ran up against a few back when…” He trailed off, leaving that sentence unfinished, and jerked to his feet, pacing like a trapped wolf. “Old habits die hard. That’s all I’m saying.”

Loki sat back. “It seems to me someone could say the same of me. Or you.” 

“Yeah,” James said. “And they have.” The fingers of his metal arm curled and uncurled. “Maybe it’s unfair,” he said after a beat, voice quieter. “But she makes me nervous.” 

Loki considered, his head cocked to the side. “I wouldn’t say I trust her,” he said, “but I don’t think she’ll bring you any harm.” His lips quirked. “When she caught me with my knife at your throat, she seemed more concerned about your safety than anything else.” 

“Me,” James said. “You think she might target you?” 

“No,” Loki said after a brief pause. “Not anymore. Not really. I imagine that she has considered how she would deal with me, if it were necessary, but at this point...whatever her personal feelings, she cares too much about Steve.” 

“She was willing to side with Stark.” 

“And turned on him in the end, I understand, to let you and Steve get away.” Loki shrugged. “I am not trying to dissuade you. Norns know I am not one to decry others for a lack of trust.”

“I appreciate it.” James stopped pacing and turned toward him. “ _Norns know._ You’ve been here for - how long? And you still say shit like that.” 

Loki spread his hands and smiled without all that much humor. “Old habits die hard.” 

James grimaced. After a moment he walked back over to the couch and sat down. “Sorry,” he said. “For bringing down the mood.”

Loki cracked a thin smile. “Usually it is me.” 

“We’re just a regular pair of downers, aren’t we,” James said dryly, leaning back into the couch, and cast a sidelong glance at Loki. “Not you, though. Not lately.” 

“Beg pardon?” Loki said, startled. James half smiled. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Since the wedding. You’ve been...in general, I don’t know. Lighter. Happier. You and Steve both. I guess it figures - something goes right for once, yeah? But it’s...oh, fuck it. It’s good to see.” James ran his fingers through his hair, ears a little pink. “So maybe I’m a sap.” 

“It isn’t _necessarily_ the worst thing to be,” Loki said, half teasing. Strangely warmed. And added, quieter: “I am. The future...the future terrifies me, when I think of it. And I think of it too much. But when I am here and now…” He shook his head. 

“You deserve it,” James said fiercely. Loki had to keep himself from flinching. 

“I don’t know about _deserve._ ”

“Fuck that,” James said. “Sure, you’re no saint. But that’s not what it’s about.” 

Loki frowned. “So what is it about?” 

James shook his head, lips set in a stubborn line. “I dunno exactly. Something else. Maybe _deserve_ is the wrong word. I’m not the poet here. Whatever the word is, it’s...good.” 

There was a sudden lump in Loki’s throat. “Thank you,” he said, not quite able to think of anything else. James waved a hand. 

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “No, seriously, don’t. Sam would never stop giving me shit if he found out.”

“You and Sam,” Loki said. “You’ve become quite good friends, haven’t you?” 

Bucky made a face. “He’s all right.” 

Loki wanted to laugh. “Indeed,” he said. “‘All right.’” Bucky narrowed his eyes, and Loki just smiled. After a moment, his face relaxed. 

“You know,” he said, “if Ross ever got the news about you and Steve getting hitched I’m pretty sure his head would explode.” 

Loki’s smile felt dangerously sharp. “Maybe we should tell him, then.”

Bucky grinned toothily back. “Maybe we should. Did we get any pictures of you two sealing it with a kiss? Cause damn, that was almost _indecent._ ” 

Loki felt his face warm, but he raised his eyebrows coolly. “You haven’t seen _indecent,_ James Barnes.” 

He held up his hands. “Jesus. That wasn’t a challenge. Some things a guy doesn’t need to see.”

The smile came easy, and felt comfortable. There might be doom on the horizon, but in the here and now…

 _Look at what you’ve made,_ a soft voice whispered, very quiet. _Look what you have grown._

* * *

Everything had changed. 

And nothing had. 

It was one of those days when Wakanda’s air was heavy and damp with the promise of rain, but oppressively hot - Loki had locked himself indoors and spent most of the day lounging unmoving on the couch, imitating Vali lounging unmoving on the cool tile of the bathroom floor. Steve had hovered worriedly, pressing water on Loki and asking worriedly if he needed a cold shower.

Sam had come and dragged him out, leaving Loki alone. He didn’t actually mind it. 

His thumb traced the ring on his finger. He was used to having one there by now, but he still couldn’t leave it alone. If he shifted his eyesight he could see the magic threaded into the metal, linking it with its twin on Steve’s finger. Binding them together.

His heart ached. Too big for his chest. 

_You should not be here,_ some part of him still whispered in the dark corners of his mind, but there was another voice there too, now: _when have you ever been one for ‘should’?_

The door opened and Loki rolled his head so he could see Steve upside down, standing in the doorway. His eyebrows furrowed. “Loki?” 

“I am all right,” he said. “Not in danger. Just not very fond of the weather.”

“You look like you’re trying to melt into the couch.” Steve plucked the empty glass off the table and walked over to the kitchen to refill it. “Are you sure you’re all right?” 

“I am sure.” 

“The sun’s starting to set,” Steve said. “It’ll start to get cooler, at least.” 

“That would be nice.” 

Steve stood there looking down at him. The worry faded slowly, replaced with an unbearable fondness. 

“Hey,” he said. “I love you.” 

Three words to make him feel like he was, indeed, melting into the couch. “And I you,” Loki said. “What brought that on?” 

“Does anything have to?” Steve smiled. “Just sometimes...looking at you, I feel it. And I think you should know. I don’t want to...miss a chance.” His smile flickered a little, and he glanced aside. 

“I like hearing it,” Loki said. 

“I know,” Steve said. “You get a...look, on your face. Honestly, that’s another reason to say it.” He paused, then said, “you know I remember the first time I saw you smile? _Actually_ smile, the genuine article.” 

Loki blinked. He didn’t. “Oh?” 

“It was when you took me to that - place,” Steve said. “The fancy restaurant. You were trying to impress me.” 

Embarrassment flickered in Loki’s chest. It felt childish, now, particularly knowing what he did about Steve. How extravagant it must have seemed. How...wasteful. “I did, didn’t I?” He said lightly.

“You did,” Steve said. “And when I said...you smiled, and it lit up your whole face, and I thought _oh, so that’s what he looks like when he’s actually happy._ ”

For some reason Loki’s face warmed. “I was,” he said. “I wanted to...well, in point of fact I was trying to seduce you.”

Steve turned a little pink. “Yeah,” he said, “I remember that, too. Though at the time I thought I might be imagining it.” 

“I ended up having to be rather more direct.”

Steve turned even pinker. “I might’ve been even madder at Tony for walking in when he did than I am now,” he said. The laugh bubbled up unbidden and Loki let it, savoring the way Steve smiled, still blushing. Beautiful. _His._

Nothing. And everything.

Loki rolled over and pushed himself up. “Let’s go,” he said. Steve startled.

“Go where?” 

“North,” Loki said. “It’s the wrong season for the Northern Lights, but - sharp, clean, mountain air sounds like a gift, just now. We can watch the sunset, see the stars come out. Be back before anyone knows we’re gone.”

“All right,” Steve said, after only the briefest of hesitations. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Loki brought them to a cliff above a ravine, a river flowing out across a volcanic plain to the sea. The sun was falling slowly over the horizon.

Steve whistled. “Wow,” he said. Loki smiled. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” 

“You’ve come here before?” Steve asked. Loki inclined his chin. 

“When I was...wandering,” he said, “between meetings with you, when I had time...places like this were where I came to breathe. I could close my eyes and almost imagine feeling at peace.”

Steve glanced at him sidelong. “‘Almost imagine?’”

“I am not...I have never been very good at feeling that,” Loki said. “But with you...I can. I used to think it sounded dull. Boring. But it isn’t, is it? It is quiet, and stillness, and a deep breath of clean mountain air.”

Steve’s hand found his, and squeezed, wordless. 

So much pain. So much suffering. And it had led him here, to a joy so fierce it ached, like he wasn’t built to hold it.

Loki twisted to kiss Steve fiercely, desperately, like it was the first time and he couldn’t get enough. Like he was there again, in the kitchen in Stark’s tower, pressing Steve against the counter and thrumming with the need he’d been denying for months. 

Years later, and wedded, and he could still recall that feeling: the desperation, the realization that somehow Steve Rogers had crept inside him and would not let him go. It had terrified him then. Now…

A binding was not just a tether. Mortar bound two stones together and built something new, and more.

He pulled back. Steve’s eyes were a little wide, his lips pink. “Loki?” He said, a little breathless. 

“I never want to take this for granted,” Loki said.

“You could,” Steve said. “Just a little. Just in the way of knowing that - that I’ll be there, with you, tomorrow and the day after that, that I’m…” He flushed, and said more quietly, “that I’m yours.”

“Mine,” Loki said softly. He took a breath, and reached out with both hands. “Let me show you something.” 

Steve took his hands without hesitation, and Loki half closed his eyes. He felt Steve start a little when Loki’s magic brushed his mind, but it was only a moment: a slight shift in perception. Steve’s breath caught. 

“It’s beautiful,” he said.

“The rings,” Loki said, knowing what Steve was seeing. Steve’s eyes lowered to their joined hands, and widened. His grip tightened. 

“That’s what it looks like,” Loki said softly. “Threads interwoven. They strengthen with time, the patterns stronger, more complex. Power - energy - flows back and forth like a tide. No beginning and no end. If you are mine...then I am as much yours.” 

“Yes,” Steve said. The shadows were growing long, but Loki could still see the shine in his eyes. He smiled, small and soft.

Loki took a deep breath and held it. The sun had sunk nearly fully below the horizon, blurring all the hard edges. No _almost,_ he thought. This was peace. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [chase the endless summer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16099838) by [oriflamme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oriflamme/pseuds/oriflamme)




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